


In Our Bedroom, After the War

by Shiropropaganda



Series: Prompt Box Fills [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, PTSD, Paranoia, Post Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 11:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16095014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiropropaganda/pseuds/Shiropropaganda
Summary: Prompt: Naked CuddlingReality: Post Series PTSD





	In Our Bedroom, After the War

The first time they sleep in, Shiro jolts awake first.

The sun has already climbed high, making the shack stuffy and hot. He can’t shake the feeling that he should be somewhere, or be doing something, but the desert is still around them.

It’s quiet.

Shiro knows that when he looks outside he’ll see pieces of torn up ships, wreckage that has yet to be cleared away, but for now, the war is over.

He can breathe.

 

 

It takes a while to get used to.

Keith repairs the broken cooling unit while Shiro patches the roof of the shack. He’s restless, eyes flicking skyward every so often, just to be sure. He clenches and unclenches his prosthetic, takes up the hammer again once he realizes the engine sounds he’s been hearing are Garrison students. He knows Keith is watching, he is always watching.

Sometimes, Keith is listless. His knife hangs beside the door, and he glances as it each time he sees lights in the sky. Once, Shiro came home to find the younger man crouched under the table, bayard in hand, eyes trained on the knife where it glowed faintly. It takes Shiro over an hour, but he finally draws Keith out and into his arms, just as Krolia pulls in with dinner for the three of them.

Keith had cried, head between his knees as he struggled to breathe. His mother joined them on the floor, saying nothing, just wrapping her long arms around them both– her  _sons,_  she calls them– until Keith is grudgingly calm enough to eat. The spread dinner on the floor and eat in silence.

Keith stays on the couch that night. Eyes trained out the window.

He doesn’t sleep, just watches.

The next day he hangs a thick blanket over the knife, and crawls into bed with Shiro, pressing soft lips to his shoulder over and over whispering,  _Sorry, I’m so sorry._

 

It’s taken them a long time to get here, and Shiro savors it, wrapping his arms around the younger man as he wakes.

  
Keith blinks up at him with a drowsy grin, fearless and open. His skin is warm to the touch, and bare when Shiro shifts the top sheet, pulling him close into a soft kiss.

These are the best days, skin to skin, whispered praise into collarbones.

_I love you.  
_ _I’ll always fight for you.  
_ _I’m so happy to be making a life with you._  
These days make the struggle worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: @shiropropaganda on Tumblr


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